


When You Slide On Down

by justlikethehamptons



Category: Magic Mike (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:37:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikethehamptons/pseuds/justlikethehamptons
Summary: Everybody in the business knows that Mike's best quality is his loyalty. That's probably why everyone keeps on testing it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyjax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyjax/gifts).



Mike clocks the guy checking him out on the second day of the convention.

He doesn’t really mind. He’s never swung that way himself, but he’d be lying if he said it’s the first time another guy’s given him a second look since he started dancing for a living. Even before that, maybe, but he never really noticed until he figured out he could make money by paying attention to how people reacted to his body.

Not that he gets hit on by other guys a lot; most of them are too busy getting off on the rush of all those women paying attention to them, and most of the other dancers are just as straight as him. But every so often one of them will give him an appreciative glance or maybe touch him in a way that lingers a little too long. He doesn’t freak out about it, because he’s not an asshole, so he doesn’t freak out when he notices this guy watching him either. Instead he just nods and goes back to practicing his routine for their show later that night.

The guy keeps watching for a while, skin tanned a perfect gold and his blond hair hanging in waves around his face. He makes Mike think of salt air and waves crashing on the shore, sunrises reflecting off water and the scent of surfboard wax. It hits him like a storm swell, the sudden longing. Not for the guy, because Mike still doesn’t swing that way, but for the vast, endless power of the ocean and the dream he’s always kept close to his heart even while he’s hustling just to get by.

When he makes it through his routine for the second time the guy approaches, like he’s just been waiting for Mike to finish practicing so he can make his move. And Mike still doesn’t mind the attention, but he wishes the guy looked a little less like the life that’s always been just slightly out of his reach.

“You’ve got some moves, son,” the guy says, as though they’re not practically the same age.

“Thanks,” is all Mike says, because he’s still not planning to be an asshole about getting hit on, even if the guy does make him think of things he’d just as soon avoid these days.

“Dallas,” the guy says, holding out a hand for Mike to shake. He expects rough skin and callouses, but the guys hands are smooth, like he takes care of them. “You’re one of Rome’s crew.”

It’s not a question, but Mike nods anyway. He glances over his shoulder to see if Rome’s lurking around, watching him and smirking to cover up the fact that it bothers her when someone else tries to move in on what she considers hers.

“Yeah,” Mike answers, going for friendly but disinterested. “We hooked up a little over a year ago, been together ever since.”

He says it that way to relay a message, to make sure the guy knows that he’s more than just part of Rome’s crew. It wasn’t that way at first, but it didn’t take long after Mike started dancing at her club before they were sleeping together pretty regularly. A few months after that he moved into her house, and now they just sort of come as a package deal. It’s kind of weird, sleeping with his boss, and he knows it bugs some of the other dancers that she’d choose him over one of them. He can’t even blame them, not really, because he might feel the same if he was in their shoes instead of his own. But it’s not like she lets Mike get away with anything just because they’re fucking, and anyway he’s not trying to get away with anything in the first place.

Dallas nods, his smile turning a little sharp in a way that could mean a lot of different things. “She still charging a commission on your tips?”

The question catches him off guard. He’d been expecting the guy to take the hint and back off, or at worst put a hand on him and try to see how far he could get before Mike stopped him. But his voice shifts from flirtatious to all business in less than a breath, and now he’s watching Mike with sharp eyes, like he’s just waiting for him to catch up with where the conversation’s going.

“No more than anybody else,” Mike answers, because it’s the truth. Rome can be kind of a hardass, especially when she thinks someone’s slacking or being disloyal, but she’s always been fair.

“You’d be surprised,” is all Dallas says, then he does touch Mike, but only to clap him on the shoulder with one large hand. “Nice meeting you. I’ll see you around.”

A second later he’s gone, and Mike’s still staring after him when he feels another, smaller hand land on his arm. “Making friends?”

Mike glances down to see Rome standing at his elbow, glaring in the direction Dallas had gone. “Uh...I’m not really sure.”

“Well, one thing you can be sure of, that man is bad news.”

“You know him?” Mike asks, surprised, though he knows he shouldn’t be. Rome has been in this business longer than him, and Dallas had talked about her crew like he was familiar with it.

“Unfortunately.” She scowls in the direction he’d gone for a few more seconds, even though he’s out of sight by now. Then she blinks and smiles up at Mike, all business once again. “Now get your ass in gear. We’ve got a show to put on.”

~

Mike’s been odd man out on Rome’s crew since he started working for her. It’s not because he’s sleeping with her -- not just because of that, anyway -- mostly it’s because he’s the only white guy on the crew. They play it up on purpose, call him White Chocolate and only let him dance to boy bands and 90s white boy rap. He mostly doesn’t mind, but it sets him apart from the rest of the dancers, and sometimes he feels a little weird about it. Like he doesn’t fit in, or maybe it’s more that he’s not welcome. And he gets it, really, he does, there are certain things he’s just never going to get because that’s not where he comes from. Also it doesn’t really help that he’s fucking the boss, whether that makes the other guys jealous or if they just don’t think he has the right.

Either way, it means he spends a lot of the convention alone, because Rome’s busy networking when she’s not making sure her dancers are working their asses off, and the other guys don’t really want Mike hanging around them. Which is how he ends up alone at the bar when Dallas the surfer with his crazy accent shows up, all smiles as he sidles up next to Mike and orders a drink for both of them.

“Listen, man, thanks, I mean I’m flattered and all, but I’m not into dudes.”

Instead of answering Dallas just grins at him, like Mike just said something hilarious. “Trust me, friend, my only interest is in your dancing.” Dallas pauses, looking him up and down with a cocky grin. “Well, and maybe your head for business.”

“What?” Mike asks, frowning and glancing around the bar like maybe he’ll be able to figure out the joke. 

“I asked around,” Dallas says, then he pauses long enough to thank the bartender and push Mike’s drink a little closer to him. “People seem to think you’ve got a pretty good head on your shoulders.”

“I mean...thanks, I guess,” Mike answers, brain working overtime to try to figure out who would have told Dallas anything about his so-called head for business. And yeah, okay, he knows how to hustle, but so far it hasn’t gotten him any closer to that house on the beach and the capital to go into business for himself.

“You ever been to Florida?”

The change of subject leaves Mike feeling a little off balance, but he just shrugs and picks up his drink. “Can’t say I have.”

Dallas nods and sets his empty glass on the bar, waving off the bartender when he starts to come over. “I’ve got a new crew, the Kings Of Tampa. We’re just getting started, but I could always use more talent.”

“Thanks, man, but I’ve got a crew,” Mike says, frowning a little at the thought of leaving Rome. It’s not quite as hard to imagine himself living somewhere like Tampa, but it’s not enough for him to bail on his commitments. Not enough to bail on his girl, on a decent gig and a pretty comfortable life.

“You’ve got a spot in a club that charges commission on your tips,” Dallas reminds him, grinning like he knows some big secret.

“Everybody charges commission on tips.”

Dallas shakes his head, still grinning, then he stands up. “Not everybody. You should think about coming down to Tampa sometime, check the place out. Hit the beach.”

His smug smile makes Mike wonder for a second if he’s some kind of mind reader. But there’s no way he can know about Mike’s ultimate dream, to live by the beach and be his own boss for once. He knows he’s got a long way to go to get there, and he’s willing to put in the work, but he can’t deny that it’s sort of tempting when somebody comes along and offers him half his dream on a silver platter.

“Think about it,” Dallas says again, clapping him on the shoulder before he turns to walk away. “And tell Rome I said hi.”

Mike watches him walk away and wonders if Rome knows Dallas is trying to steal her talent, or if there’s some other reason she doesn’t like him. He never does tell her that Dallas said hi.

~

It’s early the next morning, Rome spread out next to him in their hotel room bed, when he brings up Dallas again. Mike’s hand slides along her back, tracing the curve of her delicate spine and down her hip to cup the swell of her ass. She’s beautiful like this, just as fierce as ever, but there’s something softer about her when they’re alone, and that’s what keeps Mike coming back over and over.

“So this Dallas guy...”

“Came sniffing around you again, did he?” she says, but she doesn’t sound surprised.

“I ran into him at the bar,” he answers, lifting one shoulder in half a shrug. “Says he’s putting together a new act in Tampa.”

“And he came to the convention to poach the talent from other crews,” she finishes for him, but there’s bite in her words now. “What’d he offer you? Something too good to refuse?”

“What? No, of course not,” Mike says, frowning at the idea that she’d think he’d just leave. His hand moves back up her side, fingers pressing into warm skin just hard enough to keep from tickling. “He didn’t offer anything. Seriously, we only talked for, like, a minute.”

Rome lets out a breath like a punch and turns toward him, catching the hand that’s resting on her hip and drawing it up to press against her breast. She leans in close, lips brushing his before she pulls back to look at him again. “See that it stays that way. I told you, he’s bad news.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Mike tells her, but she’s already pushing him back into the mattress, and he knows that means the conversation’s over.

~

The next time he sees Dallas, he’s on stage at the show, in the slot just after Rome’s crew. It’s obvious from the way the crowd reacts that he’s a popular emcee, and Mike figures it’s at least half because of his accent.

His guys are good, Mike will give them that. They all seem like they’re having a great time, and their routines are polished enough to make them look professional, but fun enough to make the crowd scream. It’s not that Mike doesn’t have fun when he’s dancing -- he does, he loves it way more than he ever expected to -- but dancing in Rome’s club always feels a little bit like a competition. They’re all competing for tips, sure, but it feels like more than that, like maybe they’re competing for Rome’s attention too.

And that’s probably why he never fit in all that well with the other dancers at the club, because he’s got Rome’s attention and they all know it. These guys don’t seem to have that problem; they don’t seem to mind sharing the spotlight, and Mike finds himself wondering what it would be like to work with guys like that. 

He thinks about the beach at sunset and salt in the air and forces himself to leave the stage area before he loses his head long enough to find out.

~

The convention ends the next day, hung over women and tired performers pouring out of the hotel in various states of dress. There are more bodies milling around by the spot where the airport shuttle picks up than Mike thinks is safe, but thankfully he doesn’t have a plane to catch. Instead they’re waiting while one of Rome’s guys gets the car out of the garage and brings it to her, luggage stacked on the ground next to them and Rome tapping one foot against the pavement like she’s already over the whole thing.

It takes his breath away every time he sees her like this, so much control and power in a package that should be fragile. She’s perfect and beautiful and kind of terrifying, and he wants her more than he’s wanted anyone in a long time.

“We should take off for a couple days, just the two of us,” he says before he can stop himself.

Rome looks over at him, one eyebrow lifting into a perfect arch. He knows what that look means, but he knew better than to make the suggestion in the first place, and here they are. “Time is money, Michael. You know that.”

“Come on, I’m talking about a weekend,” he says, flashing a smile he knows isn’t going to get him anywhere. “When’s the last time you went to the beach?”

“I don’t like the beach. And weekends are when we make all our money.”

He knows there’s no point in pushing it, knows when he doesn’t argue she assumes that means she’s gotten her point across. But the truth is he’s still hung up on the fact that she doesn’t like the beach, and somehow he made it a whole year into their relationship without knowing it.

“You don’t like the beach?”

Rome sighs, then she rolls her eyes and takes out her phone. “I’ve got a business to run, and you’ve got an ass to shake. Don’t forget that.”

She turns away from him to make a phone call, probably to find out where the hell the car is. Or maybe she’s calling to check in with the club manager, to make sure everything’s set for them to get right back to business tonight. He’s not ashamed to admit that watching her work has always been a turn-on for him, and he thinks that’s the whole reason they work so well together. Because he gets it, doesn’t mind that it’s always business first with her, not when he’s got his own dreams to fulfill.

But that’s the whole problem, because their dreams aren’t the same, and that means one of them is going to have to give if they want to stay together for the long haul.

Mike swallows down the sinking feeling in his stomach and looks away from her, toward the airport shuttle where there’s a rowdy group of guys jostling each other while they wait for the shuttle to turn up. He locks eyes with Dallas a second before he realizes he’s being watched, and as soon as Mike recognizes him he glances down to make sure Rome hasn’t seen.

She’s still focused on her phone call, but he feels a little guilty when he looks up at Dallas again all the same. He’s not surprised to find Dallas walking toward them, cocky grin firmly in place. Rome’s gaze snaps up to look at him before he’s halfway to them, her eyes narrowing as she ends her phone call and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Rome, always a pleasure,” Dallas says when he reaches them. He glances over her head to wink at Mike before he looks back at her. “See you’ve added to your collection.”

“And you’re still sniffing around where you don’t belong.”

Dallas’ smile turned sharklike, all white teeth and sharp edges. “Just making sure Mike here knows what his options are.”

“He doesn’t need options,” Rome snapped.

“Standing right here,” Mike reminded them, because he wasn’t planning to bail on Rome, but he wasn’t cool with her making decisions for him, either. 

“Yeah?” Rome said, tearing herself away from her staring contest with Dallas long enough to narrow her eyes at Mike. “You got something to say?”

Mike opens his mouth to answer, then thinks better of it and closes it again. He shakes his head and doesn’t try to make her understand that he doesn’t want to leave _her_ , but he’s not sure he wants to stay in the same place for the rest of his life. She’s listened to him talk about his furniture, even seen a couple of his pieces, and he’d believed her when she said they were good. But he’s not sure she’s ever taken him all that seriously, so there’s no way she’s going to understand why he’d want anything to do with Dallas and his promises.

And he doesn’t, not really, but he can’t help being a little curious about why some guy he barely knows is so interested in recruiting him. It’s an ego boost, anyway, to know somebody’s interested enough to ask around about him. To know it’s about more than just his looks and how much of a commission he can bring in.

“That’s what I thought,” Rome says, just a hint of warning in her voice. And Mike gets that she’s only acting this way because she’s feeling threatened, but that doesn’t stop him from flinching at the look on her face. Like he’s already betrayed her, and maybe he has, in a way.

“You haven’t got anything anybody here needs,” Rome says, turning back to Dallas, “so you best be on your way.”

He flashes one more smile in Rome’s direction. “Always a pleasure, Rome. Good to meet you, Magic Mike.”

He winks at Mike then turns away, sauntering back toward his crew just as the shuttle pulls up. Mike stares after him, barely noticing the way Rome’s nails dig into his forearm where she’s gripping him as though maybe she’s half afraid he’s going to run after Dallas.

Rome lets out a derisive scoff and lets go of Mike’s arm, and when he looks down at her she’s glaring at him. “You can’t trust him.”

Mike blinks down at her, then looks back over to where Dallas and his guys are boarding the shuttle. “I don’t think he was all that serious.”

For a few seconds she looks suspicious, but before Mike can open his mouth and make it any worse she rolls her eyes and turns away from him. “Serious about pissing me off, maybe. Don’t take it personally, it wasn’t about you.”

“Yeah,” Mike says, watching Dallas' crew laugh together as they crowd on board the shuttle. Maybe he wasn't all that serious about it; maybe he really was just trying to piss off Rome, and Mike was just a means to an end. But there's a beach in Tampa, and maybe it couldn't hurt to take Dallas up on his offer of a visit. It's just a vacation, after all. What could it hurt?


End file.
